


Oblivious Brittle Souls.

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Boys In Love, Cheesy, Cliche, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Don't Like Don't Read, Don't Read This, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gross, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Beta Read, Other: See Story Notes, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Romantic Fluff, Self-Denial, Temporarily Unrequited Love, This Is STUPID, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Schlatt could feel his chest shrivel as he stepped off the plane, alone, cold, tired with no hope of bettering his day besides seeing Wilbur Soot and his dumb dorky smile, and possibly a coffee too bitter for anyone’s taste. As he slumped into the airport, sleepless, face puffed out in a fatigued pout, Timberlands clacking and clicking against the glassy unfamiliar floor of the airport, he saw him, him with a smile ear to ear, antsy on his feet as he stepped side to side, despite their being a seat right for him right in front of him. And, without a worry in the world, Schlatt melted. He oozed into a puddle never to turn back, never wishing to turn back as he saw the most dumb person in the world look back at him with billions of stars glittering in his eyes.
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot, Niki | Nihachu/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 7
Kudos: 297





	Oblivious Brittle Souls.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction includes romantic scenes with the personas (more specifically YouTube/Twitch personas) of real people. If this makes you uncomfortable or you disagree with it, please do not read this, and defiantly do not comment anything discouraging my use of themes with the personas of JSchlatt and Wilbur Soot on YouTube/Twitch in my writing.
> 
> Please do not spread this 'fic anywhere, especially on social media where the creators featured could see, and do not inform them of this 'fic's existence, as I do not wish to make anyone uncomfortable. If you feel the need to tell me how disgusting I am for writing this, you can if you really want to, but just know, I don't encourage anyone to write similar to what I do, and I don't like that I write things like this either. I am neurodivergent, and hyperfixated on Schlattbur, and the only way I can express this is to write fanfiction, I am anonymous and only go by the alias goop/goopclaws for a reason. Just know, if you do comment something discouraging me, it's something I've already told myself beforehand, and I appreciate your concern for the creators involved.
> 
> Thank you!

Softness, that’s all Schlatt could even wonder to describe him as. The feeling of tender warmness each time their eyes met, the feeling floating in the air of pure unfiltered bliss each time he heard that dork laugh his brains out and see his eyes crinkle in only joy, Wilbur Soot was soft, tender, gentle, gorgeous, beautiful, lovely, and in all words imaginable, perfect. He was all Schlatt could ever wish to have, truly, though, as the years would pass, as they would call more and more often, as they would look so fondly to one another, nothing would spark a flame in Schlatt’s heart for him to speak up, to just even whisper those three words that lie sullen in his chest. These words would never light in Schlatt, not ever, not when Wilbur had her, he had no need for Schlatt, no need for anyone but her.

So, now, when Schlatt would visit Wilbur deep in the murky city of Brighton that only had Schlatt to think of Wilbur and his dumb little recording office, his heart ached, slowly, hollow, his nerves dry and brittle with having to see the heart blistering smile on his lips, every time he so glanced at her. Niki. Schlatt was always rather fond of Niki, of course, but a cord would strike in his stomach every time he saw her, every time she would leave small trickles of kisses along Wilbur’s neck, every time Wilbur would giggle at her small tugs at his sleeve when he’d walk away from her, he only felt withering and whines in his heart. 

Schlatt could feel his chest shrivel as he stepped off the plane, alone, cold, tired with no hope of bettering his day besides seeing Wilbur Soot and his dumb dorky smile, and possibly a coffee too bitter for anyone’s taste. As he slumped into the airport, sleepless, face puffed out in a fatigued pout, Timberlands clacking and clicking against the glassy unfamiliar floor of the airport, he saw him, him with a smile ear to ear, antsy on his feet as he stepped side to side, despite their being a seat right for him right in front of him. And, without a worry in the world, Schlatt melted. He oozed into a puddle never to turn back, never wishing to turn back as he saw the most dumb person in the world look back at him with billions of stars glittering in his eyes.

He had run to his love, his Wilbur, he had run with all the might a sleepless, jet-lagged, hungry, non-early bird could muster in some alien Brighton airport at 6 A.M. Wilbur had had his arms out, open, ready to welcome his friend he hadn’t met since, well, it hadn’t matter how long it’d been, ready to welcome the sleep deprived man that would call him home. Without words, without courage to manage words, not even mutters, not even a whisper, Schlatt was in Wilbur’s arms, and that was all that mattered, for the two of them, this was what felt right, what felt like should be, this was all one could hope for meeting their longtime friend in some clammy airport with shitty coffee, right?

“Schlatt.” Wilbur had cooed to him, in a voice unfamiliar to anyone but themselves, and the smaller brunette could only grin into the crook of his beloved’s neck, letting out heavy breaths now. He was sure he could stand and rest here with his arms looping Wilbur’s chest, and Wilbur’s arms awkwardly linking over his back, his thumb pads rubbing into Schlatt’s tense muscles over his hoodie forever. Wilbur let out a small, airy laugh, one that sent Schlatt’s chest soaring as he pulled away, slowly, slowly, “Hey, you seem tired, you wanna’ go so you can sleep in the car?” The accented man’s hand seemed to inch at Schlatt’s face, though he forced the temptation away, the temptation to run gentle fingers into even softer, tired cheeks.

Schlatt noticed, of course he noticed, he had noticed Wilbur’s hand, the look in his eyes, but he forced it away just as Wilbur had his own hand, “Yeah.” He would mutter, his voice husked from the sleepless hours that had passed on his flight, Wilbur staring fondly, oh so fondly, to him now. Soon, within small murmurs throughout the airport of friendly conversations, tired, low laughs echoing through each other's ears as they would walk, they would arrive to Wilburs not so pretty car, and Schlatt’s head was pressed to the window in the passenger seat as a mock pillow in an instance. Wilbur smiled to him, warmly, oh so bloody warmly, his eyes complementing the small spurts of unfiltered excitement and love as he stared at his friend. His friend, his friend that should never know for how he feels, for the better of both of them. 

Schlatt knew. Wilbur knew. They both knew, but they could never be, not when they had Niki as their call to reality, their call to the earth below them that was so real, realer than what they could ever be. Wilbur was straight, Schlatt would tell himself, much straighter than the look in his eyes he’d send Schlatt, surely. With these last few thoughts, Schlatt was far gone, far lost into sleep to care about what he and Wilbur could have, what they should have. 

He woke to gentle singing to some song Schlatt couldn’t care to remember, tranced by the smooth gentle melody of Wilbur’s voice, the small little tap of his finger on the wheel as he would sing oh so gently, oh so quietly, as to not disturb his sleeping friend, his sleeping friend who hadn’t slept in nearly two days. When he would hear Schlatt stir, his voice would bottom out, dispersing into nothing when he glanced over at a red light, and that’s when Schlatt would notice the hand petting his head, running gently into the softness of Schlatt’s brunette. Bliss would only melt him further as he sighed, quietly, Wilbur grinning at the content look warming Schlatt’s expression. 

When the pair arrived at Wilbur's flat, Schlatt would be less groggy, though still tired, still sloppy in his walk and still groaning at the headache bristling in his skull. Wilbur would talk small talk, small talk Schlatt would only mumble to as they entered the flat, and when they walked in, it was nothing of what Schlatt had expected. There was boxed stacked by the door and sofa, and boxing tape dispensers lie across the coffee table, though it was homey, it still remained to be emptying out, and even odder Wilbur’s girlfriend was nowhere to be seen, or ghastly quiet for hearing Wilbur return home. You see, Schlatt and Wilbur had only met once, Twitch-Con to be more specific, but Wilbur had beckoned Schlatt to visit Brighton, he’d even bought his friend a ticket in his pleads, a sign that there would be no saying “no”s on Schlatt’s part. So, Schlatt had never once seen Wilbur’s flat, but he hadn’t expected to come to eerie silence and signs of the lanky man moving, “You moving?” Schlatt would rumble, grogginess still dragging at his voice.

Wilbur grimaced, offering a small, feigned, smile, “No, Niki is. We, uh, broke up.” His voice was small, weak, though he still smiled, Schlatt could only stare, unsure if he should feel triumphant, pissed off, or sympathetic, “We talked it over, and, well, I’m not straight. Not bi’ either.” A silence hollowed the room for a long moment, “I’m gay.” He whispered, “I… Thought I loved her, but, I think, she’s just the best friend I’ve ever had, and I wanted to love her. But I… Uh… I actually like someone else it turns out, and he’s… A guy.”  
Any thoughts of triumph scowered Schlatt’s mind as he thought more, he thought more of how he couldn’t convince himself Wilbur was straight any longer, not when he had said what he said, not when he felt how he felt, not when he was quite literally telling Schlatt to his face he was gay, “Well, I’m proud of you, man. If it makes you feel any better I also like cock and balls.” Schlatt’s words were sleepy as he rubbed at his face, realizing after a moment he had accidentally come out to the love of his life. But, hey, he could trust Wilbur, so what would it matter anyway? 

Wilbur had looked at him for a long moment, a long, long moment, frustration capturing him as his nose wrinkled, and Schlatt was unsure of what he had said wrong, “Can you not joke about that right now-”

Schlatt ducked his head, blinking slowly in any direction other than Wilbur’s, “I’m not.” His voice was small, he looked to the ground, he looked to his and Wilbur’s feet like they were the only thing in the world. 

“Oh.”

“...Yeah.”

Within seconds, billowing laughter leered over the room, muscles loosened, and any worry in the room collapsed for them. At least, now, their realistic barrier was gone, they were closer than ever to getting what they wanted, each-other, their love, their touch, their affection.

And then it didn’t happen.

Yes, of course, both of the men involved had to be utter, oblivious, yet still not all that oblivious, fools. During the week Schlatt would stay, the pair would talk on the balcony for hours among hours, Schlatt would bury his head in the bong Wilbur’s old roommate had left years ago when he still attended college, they would hold each other on the singular bed left to the bedroom, they would only leave the house to visit some abandoned park Wilbur liked, or try new cafes and pizza shops scattered around Brighton, small ghosts of kisses would be left to cheeks, flirting would accompany each conversation they held. Yet, the two of them seemed so desperate to deny their attraction, eachother, that despite the hours of conversations they had in every waking hour they spent together, not a single whisper was conjured in mention of what they were. 

Now, Schlatt was home, feeling alone and hollowed out from the gross murky feeling of missing Wilbur with his entire soul, he had been the past four days. With small steps, he had been building up to confessing to Wilbur, he knew, Wilbur knew, it was to happen at the airport, they both knew, but then Schlatt’s flight was early, oh so damned early, and he was left with a short, unlived, peck on the cheek from his beloved Wilbur before he ran to catch his flight. Schlatt had decided, now, late into the night, late, late, into the night, and from a quick harsh pep talk from his good friend, Ted, he would now be ringing up Wilbur to confess his undying love to the man. Bad setting? Yes. Bad timing? Yes. Did Schlatt care about any of this? No. 

“Schlatt?” His voice was smooth, soft, kind. melodic, “You need something?”

Schlatt could feel his heart bruise his ribs already, “Yeah.”

He was sure he could hear Wilbur’s smile through the call, “It’s nothing important, is it?”

Schlatt shook his head, he knew Wilbur couldn’t see, he sighed slowly, “Uh, not really.”

“Okay what is it, then?” Wilbur’s voice was fond, as fond as Schlatt felt listening to it.

Schlatt faltered, slowly, yet surely, working up to his words, “So, I, fucking shit this is gonna’ sound so lame-” He breathed, slowly, slowly, “-Okay, so, I know we’ve kinda’ just been, like, avoiding this, especially sense last week…” He could hear Wilbur’s breath hitch, he worried for a moment, “But, well, okay-” Breathing, again, slowly, “-I can’t put this like poetically or some shit, but I’m deathly in love with you, like, “I want to kiss you” kind of “love you”. Yeah.”

A loud, blistering, laugh, the sweetest noise to ever greet one’s ear’s would greet Schlatt’s, and he would tense in fear from the sound, “Schlatt, love, darling-” He was interrupted by his own cackle, “-I’m streaming.” Schlatt warmed, he warmed to the tip of his ears down to the base of his throat.

“...You’re kidding.” They laughed in unison now, earthy sounds of joy flooding Schlatt’s headphones.

Wilbur choked down his laughs to speak, “Oh, gosh, I should've told you before you started talking, I’m so sorry, but-” He laughed gently one more time, a giggle tickling the back of his throat, “-I love you too, fuckin’ loser.”

The regret, the burden of openly telling the world, even by accident, you were madly in love with one of your best friends, that you were gay, it could all come later, as right now, the sound of Wilbur’s gentle, love sicken voice was all that could ever matter.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and positive comments are very appreciated!
> 
> Hello! I tried a new writing style with this cheesy little drabble, but it ended up really gross, so I'm most defiantly scrapping it, but I still thought I should share, and hope you enjoyed either way!


End file.
